That Time - Nonbinary Month 2018
by friendlyneighborhoodfairy
Summary: (Nonbinary Month #1) Sting gets flirty, but then Rogue steps it up and beats him at his own game. Sting likes it.


**A/N:** Stingue + genderfluid (he/him pronouns).

Welcome to Nonbinary Month 2018, lovelies! In August, I and anyone who wants to participate post fics with honest representation of nonbinary, trans, genderqueer, and intersex identities. All fics have "Nonbinary Month" in the title.

As well as posting new fics, I'll be adding to/writing sequels for some of the NB Month fics I wrote last year.

 _(For more details, see the AO3 collection: archiveofourown dot org / collections / NonbinaryMonth2018)_

* * *

 **That Time**

Sting draped himself over the sofa where Rogue sat.

"Whatcha up to?" he asked.

"Nothing much." Rogue continued perusing the papers in his hands.

"Rooogue."

After a pause, Rogue sighed.

"You're trying to get me to look at you."

"Well, duh."

Rogue looked up. Sting was shirtless but for the binder, suspenders hanging stylishly loose, and his nails were dark purple. Rogue did swallow as he looked, which made Sting smile.

Following Rogue's gaze on his nails, Sting said, "Felt like a pop of color. I think it looks good, don't you?"

"It does indeed." Rogue looked up at him. "But then, you always do."

Sting pinked and seemed to take a moment to collect himself.

"To what do I owe the honor today?" Rogue asked.

"Honor? Oh, um, I was just hoping I could get my boyfriend's attention for a little while." Sting pouted. "He gets so busy sometimes."

"I'm never too busy for you. You know that."

Again, Sting did not appear to expect this answer. Blinking, he straightened off the back of the sofa.

"Would you— Does my— Want to go on a date with me?" Sting asked.

"Sting!" Rogue blushed. "Oh my god, are you asking me out? Y-You actually like me?"

After gaping for a few seconds, Sting narrowed his eyes. "You're making fun of me."

"No, I just really like you. As much as I did when you astonished me with those roses."

"I did good," Sting said wistfully, remembering how he'd asked Rogue out the first time. "And you know," he said, usual grinning flair returning, "you did a very good impression of how you looked when I asked you out the first time. All red and pretty."

Snorting, Rogue put a hand over his eyes.

"Oo, you still blush on accident, too," Sting said gleefully, poking him. "Good. I was afraid you were only blushing on command today."

"Grab your shoes so I can take you out," Rogue spluttered. "Gods, I can't compete with your flirting."

"I have to get dressed. Give me a minute," Sting said, running upstairs to grab a shirt. "But also," he called down happily, "yes, I am a good flirt. _No_ one can compete with me."

* * *

Except Rogue _could_ keep up. He was just as sweet as Sting—sweeter, because Rogue was always sincere when he did things for his partner, whereas Sting liked to poke and tease and prod. Over and over, Rogue got Sting stammering—more often than Sting got him.

At one point, they were laughing uncontrollably over their noodles (at some silly innuendo) when Rogue leaned in.

"Our waiter keeps eying you," he said in an undertone.

Sting frowned.

"Too bad. I'm taken."

Rogue crossed his arms. "They keep eying your ass. Every time they pass."

"It's not like there's much to see," Sting snorted. "I'm sitting in a chair."

"I don't think we should come here again."

"Just because someone is ogling me?" Sting asked in surprise. Rogue was not the jealous type. "I'm sure if we ask, they'll ogle you too."

But Rogue didn't smile at the tease, even when Sting planted a wet and slightly noodle-y kiss on his cheek.

"Nobody can flirt with me like you can," Sting murmured.

"Flirt?" Rogue looked around, startled. Then realization dawned. "Oh. _Oooh._ Yes, right. Ha ha."

Sting frowned.

"What—?"

"It doesn't matter." Rogue returned his kiss, hand brushing Sting's leg as he did. "Tell you later. For now, let's just have fun."

But Rogue's weird reaction stuck with Sting. It wasn't until they were exiting, quietly laughing together at a clearly straight couple who looked and spoke like a walking heteronormative stereotype, that he finally got it.

"Earlier," he said slowly, taking Rogue's hand as they pushed through the doors, "you thought that our waiter…"

"It's not important," Rogue interrupted.

"Wait, yes it is. You thought they were trying to misgender m—"

"Not important _right now,_ " Rogue growled, pushing him around the corner and against a wall. "What is important is you letting me know if it's okay for me to kiss you."

When Sting nodded feverishly, Rogue dove for his neck. The pair didn't leave their little spot against the wall until they were both hot and bothered.

"Home," Sting insisted, tugging Rogue's hand. "Your flirting has been successful, you player. Take me home with you and ravish me."

Chuckling, Rogue fell into step with him, the pair of them twisting arm-in-arm down a back road—they were never afraid of alleys when they were together.

"Claim my delicate little virginity," Sting continued dramatically. "I insist. You've earned it by being…studly."

"Studly?" Rogue laughed.

"Yes. By playing this sensitive lady with all your nice words. I'm all softened up for you."

"Well, _I'm_ not soft," Rogue grunted, making Sting grin. "Lady, eh?"

"Maybe for now. But if you sleep with me, I'll bloom into a lovely butterfly."

"Maybe I should just look and not touch, then. I like you in your human form."

Sting rounded on him, appalled. "Don't hold off fucking on my sake. I insist."

Rogue grinned.

"I _insist,_ " Sting insisted. "Definitely please touch."

Leaning in, Rogue whispered in Sting's ear. "As you wish, milady."

Sting grinned, snatched Rogue's hand, and started racing back to their flat.

* * *

 **A/N:** Leave a comment if you feel so inclined! Not sure whether I'll post another chapter to this with all their fun smut or not.


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